


increments

by youcouldmakealife



Series: always in tandem [56]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: He’s mad at the Caps, and he’s mad at himself, and he kind of wants to go on a bender right now, but he isn’t that guy anymore. Or, he is, probably, but he doesn’t want to be.
Relationships: OMC/OFC, OMC/OMC
Series: always in tandem [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1207269
Comments: 12
Kudos: 162





	increments

Making the second round means his family comes to town. Well, it means his parents come to town, Georgie putting them up in a hotel right across from the arena. He genuinely thinks they’re more hyped to meet Melissa than to watch the games themselves, figured this was their chance.

“So I’m about to be blindsided by Dineens,” Melissa says.

“It’s not blindsiding you if I tell you in advance,” Georgie says.

“You know what I mean,” she says with an eye roll.

“Dicky’s not coming unless we make the Cup Finals,” Georgie says. Something something, have a job, Georgie, can’t just take time off. “And Will’s in the middle of finals right now, so he can’t come out for the first few games.”

“You say that like it’s your brothers I’m worried about meeting,” Melissa says.

“Point,” Georgie says. “My dad’s super chill. And my mom likes everyone.”

“So now if she doesn’t like me I am officially the worst person in the world,” Melissa says.

“She’ll like you,” Georgie says. “She likes—”

“What?” Melissa says when he pauses.

“I’m trying to think of the right word,” Georgie says.

“Which means it’s totally an insult,” Melissa says.

“A sense of humor?” Georgie says. “Sass? I dunno. She’ll like you.”

“Sass,” Melissa mutters, mouth a sarcastic twist, which doesn’t exactly invalidate Georgie’s point.

“They’ll like you,” Georgie says. “They’ll definitely like you.”

They love her. And Georgie knew they would, he wasn’t bluffing, but it’s still a relief when his mom tells him that. And she’d say it even if she didn’t like Melissa, but she’s also a really bad liar, so Georgie would know if it wasn’t true. Will likes her too, when he comes down, but Georgie wouldn’t know about whether Dicky does — he’s sure he would too — because he doesn’t make it to town before the Caps’ season is over.

*

Getting knocked out does not get easier with experience. He hadn’t really expected it to, but it still fucking sucks. 

Well, it is kind of easier this year, but that’s not due to experience, or getting used to losing or anything — if there was anywhere Georgie could have gotten used to losing, it was on the Barons — just that he has Melissa to vent to as well as his family, Daniel.

He’s mad at the Caps. He knows that isn’t fair, but he is, fucking pissed at just about everyone but Devon, who did his best to hold them in there when the offense dried up.

Georgie didn’t help either. Well, with defense, maybe; him and Robbie were the only pair that never got shaken up, fucked with, because they were solid, put out in the worst situations because it was them Coach trusted to keep things from getting out of hand. But Robbie’s the shutdown guy, the one no one asks for more from — not that they could, he does exactly what he’s supposed to do and he does it great. Georgie’s the one on the power-play, Georgie’s the one who they depend on for offense from the blue line. Georgie went just as dry as everyone else at the worst possible time.

He’s mad at the Caps, and he’s mad at himself, and he kind of wants to go on a bender right now, but he isn’t that guy anymore. Or, he is, probably, but he doesn’t want to be.

He calls his mom, who says a lot of things that are meant to help, but don’t. Or do, indirectly, because he knows she’s trying, and he appreciates it. He talks to Daniel every single day for a week. Melissa helps him pack up his apartment for the summer and doesn’t say anything about the playoffs unless he does. Doesn’t say anything about him leaving, either, what that means, what their plans would be, expectations, anything. Georgie knows fly by the seat of your pants plans for long-distance relationships don’t work. And it’s only for a few months, not the foreseeable future, but. He’d fuck it up. He’s always fucked it up. 

The night before he leaves they still haven’t talked about it. Melissa has work, and Georgie’s getting on the road early, so he should probably have an early night, but he heads to the bar an hour before her shift ends. It’s quieter than usual, quiet enough that she can chat with him a bit, though she’s careful not to chat to him any more than her regulars, some he actually knows by now. He has just the one, drives them both back to his, where his suitcases are sitting in the hall like silent proclamations.

“We should probably talk about that, huh,” Georgie says, like he hasn’t been working up to it all night.

“Yeah,” Melissa says. “Just give me a sec to change.”

She comes out of his room in leggings that migrated to his dresser at some point, one of his practice shirts, hair up in one of those buns Georgie has no idea how girls do, at the top of her head, curls already attempting to escape it.

“S’do it, Dineen,” Melissa says.

“You sound like you’re hyping yourself up,” Georgie says.

“Relationship talks are often weird and uncomfortable and I am totally hyping myself up,” Melissa says. 

Fair enough.

“I don’t know if it’s so much a relationship talk as like — what summer’s going to be like?”

“In our relationship,” Melissa says. “Which totally makes it relationship talk adjacent.”

Georgie snorts. “I just don’t know what you expect,” he says. “Or want. But whatever it is, I’m cool with it.”

“You can’t say you’re cool with it before you even know what it is,” Melissa points out. “And it’s not fair to put all the expectations on me, you obviously have your own.”

“Okay,” Georgie says. “Fair.”

“So?” Melissa says. “Like, what would you like?”

Georgie chews his lip. “I mean, things to stay the same? I guess? Obviously not exactly the same, we’re going to be in different cities most of the time, but you know, keep in touch? I can come back to Washington during breaks, maybe you could come up to Providence for a weekend if that’s cool?”

“Cool,” Melissa says with a shrug. “Works for me.”

“That’s it?” Georgie asks.

“Not everything has to be complicated,” Melissa says. “If things change, you want to do something else, we can talk about it, but — works for me.”

“Okay,” Georgie says.

“Okay,” Melissa says. “You’re leaving at, what, eight?”

“Yeah,” Georgie says. 

“Can’t believe I have to wake up at eight,” Melissa mutters.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Georgie says. “I can leave a key, you can let yourself out.”

“Okay,” Melissa says after a moment. “Bed?”

“Bed,” Georgie agrees.

*

Georgie trains hard, the same as he always does. It’s the same group of guys, mostly — Keener’s training in LA with a trainer so elite and exclusive that it’s hard not be jealous, and Isaac apparently bonded with his new team after his mid-season trade, or at least one teammate, because his D-partner’s tagging along. He’s nice, quiet, which they probably need more of, no bullshit. Georgie usually shares a place, but he sublets his own this time, feels like he’s hit the point where he needs quiet nights when he’s training or his body will revolt. For all he knows that’s true of the other guys too — he isn’t the only one who’s hit his mid-twenties — but it’s easier not to take the chance.

And anyway, he doesn’t think so, because when he gets roped into going out for Isaac’s twenty-fifth, the second they walk in the door Georgie knows the night’s plan is to get plastered. Georgie can tell from the first round that if he turns down drinks they’re going to be pushed on him, that if he protests about training someone’s going to point out they have an off-day tomorrow. Classic peer pressure, and strangely the sort of thing Georgie was much better at resisting in high school than he is now.

Though maybe it’s just that he doesn’t want to tonight. He was good. He was good all season, had a careful two drink maximum when he went out with the team, sometimes while the guys around him had had half a dozen. Though rarely, at least the half dozen part, because he’d leave before it got to that point. Generally when you’re sober, it sucks to hang around drunk people. Sucks even more when none of them particularly like you in the first place.

Isaac cheerfully tells everyone he talks to it’s his birthday and drinks are on his friends, which is news to Georgie, but it’s fine. Georgie gives the bartender one of his credit cards, hopes the tab doesn’t hit six figures, but the way people have started to flock to Isaac as soon as free drinks are involved, it’s probably a vain hope. The table’s a squeeze, even when they drag over a few others, Georgie sitting between two strangers, a guy who’s leaning over the table to talk to his friend, a pretty girl on her phone who looks bored. She’s waiting for a friend, apparently, taking advantage of a free drink while she does, and Georgie chats with her, finds it slipping into flirtation almost without his permission, so effortless it’s hard not to.

But then, Georgie figures if Melissa’s cool with him fucking other people — nothing he’s put in practice yet — flirting’s harmless. Honestly, the only thing she’s said was off-limits was Robbie. Which he got, sort of, but at the same time it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Saddest, too. If Georgie got his dick anywhere near Robbie he’d probably bite it off.

The girl — Emma — disappears when her friend arrives, which Georgie’s fine with, but she’s replaced by another girl, one who’s as interested in flirting as he is, punctuates every laugh at one of his jokes with a hand on his bicep, thigh pressed against his under the table. When she goes to the bathroom, Georgie texts Melissa with, _The open relationship still stands right_?

 _Ya. It’s kind of an ongoing thing dude_ , Melissa texts back. _Is this a super weird way of telling me you’ve got NY gf or bf? Because 0 respect if so_

Georgie pushes away from the table, waves a dismissive hand at whatever Isaac’s yelling at him, and goes outside into the muggy night to call her. He’s pretty sure she’s off tonight. Hopes so.

“Okay, if it is actually a super weird way of—” Melissa says.

“It’s not,” Georgie says. “I just — it’s open, right?”

“If you’re about to pounce on someone, I don’t actually want to hear about you fucking other people,” Melissa says. “So like, just so you know, state of the union or whatever, I’m cool with you doing it, but please don’t tell me you’re about to, or give me any deets, sorry if that’s your kink because it’s totally not mine.”

“I—” Georgie says. “Noted. I just — it really is okay?”

“This is your first time,” Melissa says, softening in realization, and Georgie’s so grateful he didn’t have to say it.

“I haven’t been fucking around on you,” Georgie says.

“It isn’t fucking around if I’ve okayed it,” Melissa says. “And yeah, it’s cool, okay? Just — seriously, I’m not a jealous person or anything, I don’t care if you fuck other people, but I really don’t want to hear your blow by blows after.”

“Hah!” she adds. “Blow by blows.”

She sounds so amused by herself, and Georgie’s desperately fond of her.

“Seriously,” she says. “Enjoy the blow by blows. Just don’t tell me about them.”

“Okay,” Georgie says, then, “Miss you.”

“Clearly, since you’re branching out,” Melissa says, then, “You too, though.”

Georgie gets drunk. Georgie gets very drunk. It goes as expected. You could set a damn watch by it at this point. You’d think that would mean he’d quit while he was ahead, but, well — he does, most of the time. Daniel keeps telling him that’s a strength, like it undoes the nights he can’t stop. There’s a tipping point, Georgie’s learned. He knows exactly when he needs to stop. The problem is stopping.

He goes well past the tipping point that night, and the only way he knows he fucked someone that night is because he wakes up in her bed the morning after. Even then that’s just a guess, because he doesn’t remember shit about the sex, doesn’t even remember leaving the bar.

He doesn’t tell Melissa, of course, since she specifically asked him not to. Facetimes her that night, then goes out clubbing with a few of the guys, even though he’s a terrible dancer, even though he’s hungover as shit, even though he has training the next day, fingers a brunette on the dance floor, gets her off, he thinks, drinks more, wakes up feeling like shit, sweats booze during workouts, pukes his guts out in the bathroom twice, gets more than a few judgmental looks from his trainer.

He stays home that night. Calls his mom. Watches a movie with Melissa, sort of, the two of them starting it at the same time, messaging back and forth about how bad the acting is. It’s like the last couple nights never happened, or, maybe not that, maybe just that they didn’t matter.

*

Georgie goes back home for a week at the start of July. His mom’s asked if Melissa’s coming for the Fourth of July, and Melissa was cool with it, so Melissa’s coming.

Georgie’s nervous about it. They’ve met her, obviously, but there’s a difference between chatting between plays and over dinner and actually staying somewhere for an extended period of time. It’s the first time he’s brought a girlfriend home since high school, and when he was bringing Robbie back, they already knew him, knew him well enough that his mom called Robbie out when he tried to put on the whole ‘upstanding boyfriend’ persona with them, right before Robbie started throwing dinner rolls at Dicky and chasing him around the house. Not quite the same thing. 

But he misses her, and his mom will be upset if he cuts the visit home short to head back to D.C. to see her, so Melissa coming it is. He doesn’t want to stick her on the couch, and fuck knows she can’t just sleep in the room he still shares with Will when Will’s not at school, Dicky when he visits, so he gets a hotel room, and mom’s annoyed about it for about two minutes before she agrees there’s no other way to go about it. He offered to buy them a bigger place when he signed his last contract, but in the words of dad, ‘if it was good enough to raise three boys, it’s good enough now that it’s just the two of us’. 

She comes. She mocks the shit out of how big a deal they make about the Fourth of July, but only when it’s just the two of them, compliments mom on her decorating, which shows tact and discretion, lets dad plop a baseball cap with a big ass eagle on it on her head and gamely smiles for the Dineen group photo, and Dicky and his girlfriend Tara voice their approval of her while she’s mixing them all ridiculous themed drinks, having fully embraced mom’s holiday mania, so that’s a clean sweep of Dineen approval.

It feels good, that trip. Like some last grain of something held tight in him slipping away. He’s not saying things are perfect, or even that the trip’s perfect. Tara gets too drunk and picks a fight with mom about who even knows what, and even though they make up the next day, things are still a little awkward when Georgie and Melissa get there for lunch. Melissa gets eaten alive by mosquitoes, who apparently like her as much as the Dineens do, and Georgie forgets to re-apply his sunscreen enough times to get a nasty sunburn that takes weeks to fade, aches whenever he stretches too much, which, when he’s back to training, is all the time. 

So not perfect, or even close, probably. But good, which is all he really needs.


End file.
